


Five Times Loki Invaded the Avengers’ Dreams and the One Time He Didn’t

by DistractedDream



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Black Frost - Freeform, Dubious Consent, F/M, FrostIron - Freeform, Frosthawk - Freeform, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thorki - Freeform, dub con, dub con like whoa, frostshield - Freeform, gammafrost - Freeform, loki is a shithead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9937394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: Pitting the Avengers against each other hadn't worked. Mayhaps causing some internal struggle would do the trick. And Loki always did love a good trick.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is tagged DUB CON LIKE WHOA for a reason. While consent is given every time, the situation is rather dubious. If this makes you uncomfortable, please click away, no hard feelings.
> 
> I started this fic over a year ago. Tony's scene wasn't finished. Natasha and Thor hadn't even been started. I hate leaving things unfinished. So here it is. My love forever to SerenityXStar for her patient beta-ing.
> 
> I can be found on Twitter @DistracteDream and on Tumblr @DistractedDream. Please leave kudos or comments if you liked this! I appreciate every single one.

_“Strange, I thought, how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time.” ― Ransom Riggs, "Hollow City"_

* * *

  **Captain America/Steve Rogers**

“While you are on your knees, Captain…” Loki chuckled from his position above Steve, the butt of his scepter pushing down on his head.

_Steve frowned in his sleep, lines forming between his brows. That wasn’t what Loki had said in Germany…_

“Forcing me to kneel isn’t the same as worshipping you.” Captain America brought his shield up, knocking the scepter away and spinning out of reach. He registered that the civilians were gone from the scene but, like a good soldier, he kept his attention focused on his enemy.

Loki stalked closer, green cloak billowing out behind him, the gold of his helm and armor catching the streetlights. “Ah, but wouldn’t that be simpler? To recognize me as a god and treat me accordingly? I understand there is a certain rapture in it, a religious experience if you will.” The god – _no, Steve resisted that thought_ – the alien was close enough that Steve could see him smirking.

The Captain braced himself, shifting his weight, bringing his shield up to protect his core. “Good luck trying to brainwash me, Loki. Just tell me what you’ve done with the Tesseract.”

A mildly amused look crossed Loki’s face for a moment before the apparition of him standing in front of Steve flickered out, disappearing from his view. “Now where would the fun be in controlling your mind?” he whispered behind Steve, breath cool against his ear. “I enjoy your spirit, Captain. I would enjoy breaking it even more.”

Steve spun, shield still raised between them, only to find long pale fingers wrapped around his upper arm, halting his motion. His shoulder protested loudly at the sudden stop and Steve felt himself pinned by his shield across his chest. Loki leaned in with a wicked smile, the increased pressure on Steve’s arm almost pulling his shoulder out of the socket. He bit his lip against a pained groan. Loki’s eyes flicked to his mouth, smiling even wider.

“Let’s be rid of this pesky contraption of yours,” Loki crooned as tendrils of green magic flowed from his hand on the Captain’s arm, down the appendage to his shield. Steve flexed his hand around the straps, but it did no good as the sorcery vanished his protection. “There now. All-”

His words were cut off as Steve punched Loki in the stomach, his other arm no longer blocked by the now gone shield. The force moved Loki just enough for Steve to barrel into him, arms around his waist and running his back into the nearby park wall. He tried not to think about the crunching sound, the way the air left Loki’s lungs, only partially relieved as cracked masonry fell to the sidewalk at their feet. Loki laughed, high-pitched and wheezing. “So rough, Captain.” His armor and helm all dissipated, the scepter held to his side.

Steve’s left hand grabbed at Loki’s wrist above the weapon, right hand coming up to wrap around his throat. “Do you ever shut up? Drop the scepter. Drop it.” He shook the captured wrist. “Now!”

“As you wish,” Loki choked out as he lifted his chin though Steve couldn’t tell if it was to ease the constriction around his throat or to give Steve better access. He tried not to let his eyes be drawn to the pale flash of vulnerable skin or the way Loki’s pulse beat steady under his fingers while his own raced.

Vaguely, the Captain realized he hadn’t heard the scepter clatter to the concrete but when he checked, it was gone. “Full of tricks, aren’t you.”

The god – _NO! Steve’s head turned against his pillow, refusing the word. Yessss, whispered some traitorous part of his subconscious._ – Loki merely grinned, his posture relaxing. “Oh, dear Captain, you have no idea.”

His hand tightened fractionally around his throat. “Stop talking.” It came out as an order, his tone commanding, face inches from Loki’s. “Unless you want to tell me about the Tesseract.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, challenging Captain America’s attempt at authority, his tongue peeking out over his lip. Steve’s eyes followed his tongue and while nothing had obviously changed in their positioning, he knew in his gut that suddenly everything had shifted between them. Loki’s knee wedged between Steve’s thighs and though Steve tensed, expecting an attack, Loki’s muscles remained at ease.

“Make me.” He licked his bottom lip, slower this time, lowering his lids to watch the Captain from under his lashes. Without thinking, Steve mirrored the motion and prayed that his mask covered the flush creeping over his cheeks as his cock started to harden and Loki gave him a devilish grin. He rolled his hips into Steve’s, thigh brushing against the juncture of his pelvis.

His hand slid from Loki’s throat to grip the dark hair at the base of his skull. “You would like that.” He pulled the god’s – _darnit! And that small part of him chuckled._ – face to his, crushing their mouths together in a frustrated kiss. Loki’s lips were cool against Steve’s and he did not want to think about how good they would feel against his heated skin. _But you are thinking about it._

“Maybe…” Loki breathed against his lips the moment the Captain gave him some leeway.

“Maybe you hear better on your knees.” Steve’s hand tugged at Loki’s hair, the hand on his wrist moving to his shoulder to guide him to the ground. The ease at which Loki fell to his knees threw Steve, but his next words set him on edge.

“Why, Captain. I thought you were against the use of force.”

Steve grit his teeth. He had hardly applied pressure but the implication… “Apparently not when it comes to making you be quiet.” His breath hissed over his teeth, Loki idly palming his length through his uniform, those pale eyes looking up at him.

“If I am silent, how will you know when I am enjoying myself, Captain?” Steve used his grip in Loki’s hair to shake his head lightly, his uniform feeling far too confining against that hand working him. _This was wrong, this was wrong, so wrong, so… so right… Steve’s fingers clenched around his bedsheets, kicking the covers off, overheated._

He groaned, eyes closing, Loki leaning forward and mouthing him through the blue fabric. He hadn’t… Steve had never… His cock twitched. “Loki…” He flinched when he heard the material rip, eyes wide when he caught the flash of a dagger in the god’s hand, Loki adopting an innocent look as he vanished the blade. “What are you doing?”

Loki’s fingers reached into the ruined uniform to wrap around Steve’s shaft, pulling his length out and stroking slowly. “I thought I was not supposed to speak.” He leaned in again, flattening his tongue along the underside of his shaft and licking him lazily. Goosebumps broke out over his hips and thighs from the cool wetness. Steve’s eyes slammed shut, fingers fisting in black hair, groaning.

_Steve’s hips rolled in his sleep, the groan from his dream rumbling in his chest._

Loki’s tongue swirled around the head of his cock, prodding at his slit, hand pumping his length. Steve couldn’t… He didn’t know… His hips bucked forward without thinking about it, Loki’s mouth opening easily for his cock. Steve pulled back, only to have Loki squeeze his fingers around the base of his shaft. Precum gathered in his slit, making him gasp as Loki’s tongue licked it away. He pushed into the god’s mouth again, fingers flexing in his hair.

_He was panting, the friction of his boxers against his hot, hard cock intensifying as his back arched off the mattress. This time, his moan was undeniable._

When Steve felt Loki’s chin hit his balls, the god’s throat adjusting at the invasion, he shuddered. He couldn’t… He wouldn’t be able to… Then Loki hummed, the vibration travelling through his throat and mouth, and Steve pumped his hips, yanking the hair in his hands to keep Loki in place until he came, breathing heavy, thighs trembling.

He was still trying to calm himself as Loki cleaned him with his tongue, fingertip dabbing at the cum clinging to his lip, Steve staring at him with eyes wide and blown. “Not so wholesome now, are you, Captain?” With a laugh, Loki disappeared from between Steve’s legs, leaving Captain America shaken and wrecked.

Steve awoke to a sticky set of boxers and undershirt. He’d ripped the fitted bedsheet with his hands, untangling his fingers from the fabric. His heart was still pounding. Just a dream. It was just a… He threw his arm over his eyes, feeling deeply ashamed, feeling like a teen, but how could he have expected he’d have a wet dream about Loki of all people? In the middle of a mission? He sighed, trying to get his head back on his work, trying to shake the dream, even while that laugh still echoed in his memory.

Loki smiled, exceedingly pleased with himself. He licked the taste of Captain America from his lips and palmed his own erection. One down, four to go.

* * *

**Iron Man/Tony Stark**

"This usually works." Loki tapped the scepter against Tony's arc reactor again, brow furrowed.

Tony's mind jumped straight to exactly how he'd like to smooth out those lines. "Well, performance issues, it's not uncommon. One out of five..." He didn't get any farther as Loki grabbed him around the throat. The god grinned, fingers squeezing under Tony's chin as he flailed to get free. "Like it rough, hunh?," the man wheezed, trying to dig his nails into the exposed skin of Loki's hand. Success and he found himself shoved backwards for his troubles.

_Here it comes. In his sleep, Stark took a deep breath, prepared for the fall._

Tony's knee hit the floor, his own hand coming to this neck as he coughed. "Next time, ask for a safe word first." _...wait, what? Tony frowned in his sleep, rolling to his back. This dream always ended with him falling from the Tower._

The scepter twirled in Loki's hand as he approached where Tony was still crouched. "I am not sure if you notice, but you are not exactly safe right now."

Stark rolled his eyes. "No, a safe word. Don't they have those on Asgard?" He tried to stand only to find the god's hand on his shoulder, keeping him on the floor, his knee hitting the hard floor again. "Goddamn it! Stop that."

"No," Loki said with a smirk and that's when Tony realized he was, as Loki said, not safe.

He looked up at the god standing over him and racked his brain on how to get out of this alive. "How's the weather up there?" He flinched as Loki's fingers tightened on his shoulder. "Not much for comedy, got it."

The god glared down at him. "I find myself wondering the best way to silence a Midgardian." His eyes moved to Tony's bruised throat, tracking the movement of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "Perhaps I should prove to you just how good my performance is."

The Avenger's eyes dropped to Loki's crotch so very close to his face, tongue automatically wetting his lips. _...no, no, no I'm not doing this. Even if he probably tastes delicious. Shit! I'm not... Aren't you?, a voice replied._ Tony wanted to survive, but he also very much wanted to know what a megalomaniac would look like undone. Consider it a science experiment. Bruce would understand.

"If you can think of a better use for my mouth, then do it. I am literally at your mercy." He reached tentatively for Loki's thighs, hands sliding over the leather-clad muscles. They stayed like that for a moment, the man kneeling before the god, neither moving the few more inches to close the distance. "How do you get out of all this?" Tony's thumbs rubbed over Loki's inner thighs as he mused. "Looks kinda complicated."

He tensed as the handle of the scepter rested on the back of his neck, Loki releasing his shoulder. "Mayhaps to your simple mind," he answered, pushing his tunic aside and undoing the tie for his breeches. Any pithy response died on Tony's lips as he stared at the god's cock until he found his head wrenched back by pale fingers in his hair. "Don't tell me you have never seen another man before."

"Hey, I went to college," Tony said, trying to shake his head free of that grasp. He pressed his fingertips into the leather. "Let go!" And he was, the motion sending him falling forward, until he was nose-to-tip with a face full of divine cock, eyes wide. "Fuck," he mumbled and, god help him - _he would swear he heard someone chuckling_ \- god help him, he leaned into it, nuzzling and rubbing his cheek against the hardening length like some sort of eager cock slut.

He was rewarded by a soft hiss as his stubble brushed over the sensitive flesh. Jackpot. For science. Keeping his eyes on Loki's, Stark slowly licked his shaft, circling the head with his tongue. A growl that time, hand finding its way back into his hair. "Like I said, college," the man offered, prodding the bundle of nerves at the tip with his tongue.

Loki’s shaft was cool to the touch and Tony’s constantly processing brain connected it to that he was going to blow a frost giant. _Well, at least he’s not hung like –_ The god yanked back on his hair with a growl, eyes furious. Stark only smirked up at him, unafraid, mouth falling open, tongue lolling out. He choked as Loki shoved his cock past his lips and Tony’s nose hit skin. His throat convulsed, squeezing around his tip and it was enough to cause Loki to pull back a bit.

For once, Tony’s mouth was going to get him out of trouble. _For once._ He gripped Loki’s thighs, bobbing his head, lips sealed tight around him, making his cheekbones stand out. He used his tongue, undulating it along his shaft, stretching out to lap at his balls. Eyes lifted, he watched for signs of how close Loki was, but he wasn’t so much as flushed and sweat apparently wasn’t a thing frost giants did. Though Tony would swear Loki had been sweaty in the video of his arrival through the portal.

The scepter pressed against his neck and he felt like he lost several strands of hair from the pulling. “Stop thinking,” Loki snarled. The corner of Tony’s mouth lifted as though it were funny, sucking harder. Loki cursed harshly or so Tony assumed as he bucked shallowly against his tongue. Tony’s jaw ached but he refused to stop. For science. _You have a strange way of justifying your perversions._ Stark’s surprised yelp was muffled around Loki’s cock and completely silenced as Loki’s cum hit the back of his throat.

Tony woke up coughing, a salty taste coating his tongue. “That’s it. No more of Natasha’s cooking before bed.” He groaned, not surprised at the ache in his balls, rolling off the sofa in his workshop. He’d take care of that first and then get back to work.

Loki, thoroughly spent for the moment however, let himself fall back, limbs and eyelids heavy.

* * *

**Hawkeye/Clint Barton**

Clint hadn’t had a full night of sleep in months. Too many nightmares. Too many hazy memories tinged in a bright blue. Too many times walking that same path… He rolled to his side, curling up in his sleep.

He was always aware of where Loki was. His presence burned in Clint’s mind with the need to serve, to please. The man shifted his head slightly, keen eyes picking out Loki’s form among the shadows. A quick dismissal from Barton had the rest of the agents scattering off to carry out the god’s orders.

“You’re skulkin’,” the archer observed drily without turning around.

“I am supervising,” Loki corrected, stepping forth. “I did not intend to be seen.”

Clint grinned, Tesseract-blue eyes crinkling at the edges. “You picked the wrong guy then. Why are you supervisin’ us?” His gaze sobered. “You worried we’re not doin’ a good enough job?”

The God of Chaos shook his head and positioned himself closer. “Hardly. I came to see you.” He motioned for the man to walk with him as they often did, a false comraderie between them that Clint suspected was of personal value to Loki. “You interest me.”

Barton fell into step with him. “Yeah?” He reflexively scanned the tunnel having fallen into his role as de facto bodyguard easily. He noticed that for once Loki seemed to be leading him somewhere. “Just doin’ my job, sir.” They were in a hall that was rarely used, this section of old underground base yet unfinished.

_In his bed, Barton shuddered in his sleep. He’d hated being underground._

Loki paused to lean against the wall, hand bracing himself, shoulders slumping. Whatever he did when he wasn’t present had worn him out, Clint thought. Whatever could wear out a god probably was a good thing to avoid. He reached out to touch Loki’s back, pulling his hand away quickly when the god jerked, back slamming into the wall. “Don’t!” Loki’s eyes were wide, dark circles visible under the crappy fluorescent lights. “I am fine.”

“Bullshit.” This time, Clint didn’t hesitate, getting right in Loki’s grill, hands on the taller god’s shoulders. “You ain’t been fine since you’ve been here. What’s up?”

_Clint tensed, heart pounding. Never had he been so bold as to touch Loki. His head turned on his pillow. He’d wanted to… oh, he’d wanted…_

Loki sighed as his gaze met his archer’s distorted eyes. Long pale fingers lifted, stopping just above the man’s skin. “Your Midgardian mind would not understand. There are others worse than I. Others that would have no need for companions.”

His breath caught. Minion, sure. Lackey, reluctantly. But companion? Barton had never dreamed… _Haven’t you?, a voice brushed through his mind. Haven’t you?, his own mind echoed…_ Impulsively, his hand left Loki’s shoulder to find that hand, guiding it to cup his cheek, unashamedly pressing against the cool palm. “Is that how you see me?”

“Yes,” the god answered baldly. His thumb traced over Barton’s cheekbone. “Yes, it is.”

_A sigh, soft, sleepy, content, slipped from his lips. Sentiment, the voice in his mind said, no trace of mockery._

Clint, emboldened by the admission, stretched up, kissing Loki with all the finesse of an overeager teenage boy, the mind control combining with his own desire. He felt Loki freeze against him and for a moment, he regretted his action, and then Loki was kissing him back, more grace and more banked hunger than Barton had shown.

The man moaned, letting Loki control the kiss, pressing against the god’s body, head tipping back farther. His lips parted and Loki's tongue took full advantage, flicking into his mouth, and Clint found himself sucking on it, hands sliding over the god's chest, cock hardening behind his black pants.

"Agent Barton." Loki broke the kiss, smiling softly as the mortal pressed against him, seeking to draw him back. The god brushed his knuckles over his cheek before Clint opened his eyes, noticing how Loki's smile faded a bit when he did. "Would you like to join me in my chamber?"

"...Clint. That's my name." Loki gave him a strange look. "Figure we just kissed and all. Ya could at least use my name."

The god nodded, accepting his explanation. "Would you join me, Clint?"

_Clint rolled onto his stomach, face buried in the pillows. Never had he been invited into Loki's private room. ...did you wish to be?, the voice asked. Yeah, his mind answered._

The archer found himself backed against the door which had closed behind them, Loki's form covering his own, the kiss more urgent, more needy in the privacy of the god's room. Hands... hands everywhere and Clint vaguely noticed how cold Loki's touch was, gasping when he made contact with bare skin. "Tell me no." Loki's voice was tight, words breathed against Clint's jawline. "Tell me you don't want this."

He whined, hips rolling, grinning stupidly at the sharp inhale in response from Loki. "I can't. No point in lyin' to you. I'm not goin' tell you to stop." Loki stilled, his hands coming to rest on the man's hips. "Can't or won't?"

Barton tried to roll his hips again only to find himself pinned by those long-fingered hands. "Does it matter?" Loki gave a frustrated growl, thighs coming between Clint's, causing the mortal to sigh as an unmistakable hardness pressed against his.

"It rather does. Can't or won't? Tell me."

"Won't, alright?" Clint lifted to his toes, eyelids fluttering at the friction. "I want you. Is that so wrong?"

_Is that so wrong?, his mind supplied, brows drawing tight in his sleep even as his hips lifted, easing the pressure on his cock. Do you want this?, the question from that voice caressed in his head. Barton moaned into his pillow, hips bucking forward in answer._

He was naked, face-down, ass-up in a bed he doubted was ever used, calloused hands clinging to the sheets. "Fffffuck," Clint whined. No amount of fingering could have prepared him for the god's cock, his hole stretching, the burn only intensified by Loki's cool shaft.

Loki stopped, buried balls deep in the Midgardian, panting slightly in the effort to hold himself still. "Does it hurt?" He started to pull back, making Clint whine even louder.

"Yes! But good..." He pushed his ass back onto Loki's cock. "Don't stop. God, don't stop."

The god chuckled and slid himself back in deeper. "I won't."

Clint awoke with a shout, much like he normally did lately. Only for once this wasn't a scream from some nightmarish memory. Rather than the rigid muscles he usually came to with, his limbs were heavy, languid. He lay panting, eyes wide if only to confirm his vision was normal and not Tesseract-colored, slowly realizing that the sheets under his naked body were damp.

"Oh fucking hell," he growled, forcing himself to rise and strip the bed. He threw the sheets in the vicinity of the hamper and flopped back down onto the bare mattress. Wouldn't the SHIELD psych love this? Dreaming of being fucked by a mind-controlling psycho killer with delusions of grandeur. Yet he couldn't deny the contentment he felt, the relaxation spreading through his body. Barton didn't fight sleep this time, quickly falling into a dreamless doze.

Loki leaned back in his chair, hands clutching the armrests so that they didn't tremble. Sentiment, while sometimes unexpected, was often needed. A small part of him hoped he'd at least helped his archer sleep better. He shook his head to clear it. Sentiment wouldn't help with his next target.

* * *

**Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff**

“If you make a spider joke,” Natasha commanded, thighs squeezing in warning.

Cool lips ghosted over her inner thighs. “I would not dream of it.” Natasha rolled her hips, tilting her head back. She so rarely let herself go, let her defenses down. Everything, every interaction, every lover, was simply another mark, another step to completing her mission. The only times she pursued her own pleasure were in her subconscious.

“Be a good boy and you might even get a treat.” Between her legs, Loki purred. Her bed shifted as he reached up, palms caressing the back of her thighs to her ass, pale fingers clutching pale flesh. She stretched out, rubbing her own hands up from his abdomen to his chest, tweaking his pale pink nipples. He arched and moaned and she dropped her hips down onto his open mouth. The god didn’t hesitate, tongue darting out to drag over her clit. She rocked down against him, grinding as he alternated licking and sucking at her. “You are a good boy. When you want to be.” She pinched his nipples again, rewarded as his moan vibrated against her.

Natasha laid herself out over his body, ginger ringlets tickling across his hips. Loki’s cock twitched as she blew air over it. “Just like any other man,” she taunted. He growled, fingers digging into her thighs, so she did it again.

_I am going to make you mewl, Spider._

“Isn’t that a contradiction? Spiders don’t mewl. We sting.” Her nails struck at his thighs, holding his legs down, blood welling under her fingertips. Answering the voice in her head aloud didn’t strike her as odd; it was Loki either way. He squirmed under her, lips suctioning around her clit. A shudder went through her before she controlled it. Her tongue lapped at his head, teasing as she scratched his skin until Loki was the one mewling for more, his tongue thrusting between her labia. She continued tormenting him, pushing her hips back into his face as he tongue-fucked her. Her thighs tensed under his hands, wetness coating his mouth and chin, perfectly controlled even in orgasm.

“Good boy. Now you can have your treat.” Natasha opened her mouth, lips circling around his tip as she sucked him along her tongue, slowly lowering her head. He lapped at her cunt, letting her hold his hips down as she worked his length, full pouty lips slipping over his hardened shaft, lipstick smearing over his skin. They settled into a rhythm – _it’s like dancing, his voice in his head supplied; so don’t step on my toes, she replied –_ of her rocking forward to swallow his cock, of her rolling back onto his tongue. She scratched her nails lightly over his testicles until he twitched, a whimper catching in his throat. Natasha popped off and sat up, watching disinterestedly as his cum spurted over his abs, Loki gasping against her.

She reached behind her, threading her fingers through his hair, pushing her wet pussy back onto his mouth. “Oh no, I didn’t say you were done yet.”

Natasha lifted her arms above her head, toes pointed, a small smirk playing at her lips. By the end of it, she hadn’t been the one mewling after all.

Loki panted, wiping at the dried blood on his thighs. He wasn’t surprised that the Spider had seen through the dream illusion. In a way, he almost admired her for it. Still, it would be a long time before he risked disturbing her slumber again.

* * *

**The Hulk/Bruce Banner**

Loki’s apparition eyed the sleeping man warily. He had only seen the man once, distantly, and never spoken to him while in human form. The god’s eyes narrowed as a dull ache in his ribs started, old injuries triggered with memories. He huffed and turned away, the ghost of himself fading out of the room. He’d never intended to invade _that_ one’s dreams.

* * *

**Thor Odinson**

Loki slammed back into the wall, Thor’s arm against his throat. It did little to reduce the ever-present smirk he wore around his not-brother. He didn’t even attempt to push back. “Is this what you wanted, Loki?! To come to blows with me?!” Thor roared in his face. He pressed harder into him, keeping Loki pinned.

“Hardly like it’s our first time,” Loki wheezed and Thor’s brow creased, sensing some implication the other made but he, like always, missed. Loki curled his fingers into Thor’s garb, somehow still managing to look down his nose at him. It infuriated Thor.

He let him go, stepping away. “Why have you done it? Why go on with your tricks and your games? You have been defeated. Be honorable and cease fighting me.” Thor stripped off his gauntlets, unaware that they simply vanished as he tossed them aside. “There is no reason for us to be at odds.”

The other sneered, slinking away from the wall. “You are denser than I ever knew.” He cocked his hip, crossing his arms over his chest, watching as Thor removed his armored breastplate and tunic. “We were raised surrounded by lies. Odin never intended to let a Jotunn whelp on his precious throne. He doesn’t even allow his own get to come to rule.” Thor sat, leather laces falling from his boots under his fingers. “I will never kneel before the throne of Asgard again.”

“And I have not asked you to!” Thor set his boots aside, standing in only his breeches. “Brother-”

“DO NOT CALL ME THAT!” Loki’s cool eyes widened in rage, fists dropped, clenched at his sides. “I am not-”

There were many things Thor would tolerate, especially when it came to Loki, but being shouted at in his own chambers was not one of them. His hand snapped out, gripping the back of Loki’s head, bringing his silver tongue to stillness, fury burning yet in his eyes. “You will heed me!”

_Whispers filled his head. Awful things. Lewd things. He swatted the air as he slept as though the thoughts were no more than a fly._

Loki’s throat worked, trying to swallow with his head tipped back. “Never.” His hands pressed into Thor’s broad chest. “You will never be king, I never your subject.” He didn’t struggle and Thor should have taken more note of that.

He shook Loki, a layer of glamour falling away, his armor fading like gold dust. “We are equals.” Loki’s lips curled back from his teeth and Thor clamped his hand over his mouth. “Enough. I do not want you beneath me.”

_Don’t you? Haven’t you always wanted to bring me to heel? By force if necessary? Thor rolled to his side, the hissing whispers breaking through his sleep._

Loki wrenched out of his hold. “No, of course not.” He gave himself a disgusted look, letting the illusion of his leathers go, his boots gone as well. “I’m not worthy of even being your servant. I hear what they say of me. Traitor. Snake. Villain.” He smoothed a hand over his tunic. “A Jotunn runt not fit to bed the lowest chambermaid.”

“Would you have wanted to?” Thor’s blue eyes caught Loki’s, not sure what prompted the question to fall from his lips.

“Even freaks have needs, Thor.” Loki said it as though Thor were stupid, as though he had not insulted himself with that. “But no.” His eyes skirted Thor’s bare chest and away again. “My desires have always lain elsewhere.”

_Oh. The whispers stopped, as though they awaited his reaction. As though they hadn’t been filling his head with visions of Loki happy, at least physically so. Oh. He splayed across the bed, sheets tented over his hips._

“Your problem,” Thor started, stepping closer, “is that you deny yourself. You’re ashamed. You are heir to Jotunheim, raised as a prince of Asgard, and yet admitting your true desires frightens you.” He fisted his hands in Loki’s tunic, the fabric stretching. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Loki’s pulse pounded in his throat, licking his lips nervously. “You’re wrong,” he answered, his voice lacking its usual overconfident conviction.

“Liar.” Loki’s hand scrambled at Thor’s arms as his tunic ripped in his grasp, torn off his arms, unable to protest under an assault from Thor’s mouth. His beard scratched at his chin and he tried to scratch, to bite, but Thor took it all, merely lifting Loki into his arms and tossing him onto the bed on his stomach. Before he could get to his knees, his breeches were yanked off his legs, leaving him naked. He tried to roll over, to kick or hit at Thor, finding himself instead pressed further into the soft furs. Loki froze as something cold and wet was rubbed against his ass. “Stop fighting me. I want to make you happy.” Thor’s beard tickled against his back. “Let me in, Loki. If you want this, let me in.”

He had fought for so long. Years. Millennia, it felt like some days. Fought everything. Odin. Laufey. Thor. His heritage. The Avengers. Himself. He was tired. Loki’s head fell forward, hair hanging around his face. He could give in. He’d come this far and hadn’t this been his intent when he started this? All of them. Culminating in this very moment with Thor. He closed his eyes, nodding, hair swishing over the furs as he did, body relaxing under Thor.

At Loki’s consent, Thor smeared the oil around his asshole, dipping his fingertip into him and back out, undertaking the exercise patiently, each time Loki’s body accepting more of his finger. Once to the knuckle, he added more oil and repeated the process with two fingers. Then three, until Loki pushed back, his own cock hanging heavy under him. He almost whined as Thor pulled his fingers free, biting down on his hand to stop himself. It seemed that perhaps his time with the Spider had been worthwhile in more ways than one.

Thor poured yet more oil over his shaft, slicking himself until the oil gleamed in the candlelight. With one hand on Loki’s hip and the other around the base of his cock, he guided them together, moving as slowly as he had with his fingers, until Loki’s ass hit his hips. Loki panted under him, nails scoring the furs as he stretched to take him fully. He held his composure even as Thor began to move, the exquisitely slow friction of his cock withdrawing and then sliding back inside sending Loki’s senses into hypersensitivity. The lights wavered, flames glowing around the bed, the heady scent of the oils and Thor’s sweat, the softness of the furs and the prickliness of Thor’s beard, even the wet sound of Thor’s thrusts and the slap as their skin connected all seemed heightened to Loki and he hung his head, not in defeat, but in the simple joy of finally getting what he truly wanted.

They moved together, as equals, until Loki moaned. Thor’s thrusts came closer together, harder and it felt to Loki, even deeper, only Thor’s hands on Loki’s hips keeping him from being pushed forward across the bed. Thor reached under him, calloused hands stroking Loki’s cock, each pounding of his hips counterbalanced by a tug on Loki’s dick. The candles burned low by the time Loki felt himself edge to completion.

In the end, Loki cried out, spilling over the furs, his own name shouted from Thor’s tongue as hot seed filled him. Thor bent over him, sweat-slick skin sticking together, kissing the back of his neck, whispering against his skin. “I love you, brother.”

Thor sat up from his dreams, throwing the blankets off him as every light in his room came on suddenly. “Who dares-” His eyes fell on Loki at the foot of his bed, hair and eyes wild. “Loki? Brother, how-” Thor looked down at himself, cock spent and still glistening with oil. “What tricks are you playing at?”

Loki laughed a bit too loud, a victorious smirk on his face. “Nothing that could have happened had you not wanted it as well.” He bowed in mockery, his grin turning vicious. “Do not let it keep you up at night, brother.” With his mischief managed, Loki vanished to the sound of Thor’s enraged bellow, his own laughter fading with him.


End file.
